


The SIC's Got a Boyfriend

by WizardSandwich



Series: Toaster Fics [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, Rumors, bc they're bros and prowl gets a kick out of it, it's called being best friends except neither of them will admit they're best friends, prowl is a creature of order but also he fucking sucks, there are some g1 cartoon funny elements at play tbh, this fic only appeals to me bc i'm stupid and have no taste
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardSandwich/pseuds/WizardSandwich
Summary: There are rumors going around.
Relationships: Toaster & Blaster, Toaster & Prowl
Series: Toaster Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594627
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i mostly wrote this bc i thought it was funny and i'm not really sorry
> 
> if you like my stuff find me at @tasteful-robot-loving on tumblr!

Toaster respects Prowl. That much is and always will be true. Prowl is the mech who picked him up out of a back alley, the one who brought him into the Autobots and introduced him to Jazz. He even, however inadvertently, reunited him with Blaster.

If they aren’t friends—and Toaster likes to think that they are—then he at least respects him as a commander.

He just… doesn’t know how this happened. This being the wide opticked look from half a dozen mechs in the halls, finally noticing him but not for what he wants to be noticed for.

“Are you still going on about this?” Prowl asks with a sweep of his doorwings. His optics are cold and he stares unimpressed at Smokescreen.

Smokescreen doesn’t even have the decency to be _sheepish._ His grin grows wide at Prowl’s gesture, an accusing one from what Toaster understands about doorwings. Smokescreen lifts his servos in mock defense, “Hey, I’m just the guy delivering the news.”

Prowl rolls his optics, “I doubt you’re discouraging the gossip.”

“Nah,” Smokescreen agrees with a shrug, delighted and amused. “It’s fun to watch ‘em wonder.”

Prowl dismisses Smokescreen with the wave of his servo, half-sparked annoyance punctuating his every action. Part of Toaster wants to leave. Prowl has never been lenient when annoyed and the situation was embarrassing, to say the very least. But the other part of Toaster understands the need to talk about this.

“What are we going to do?” Toaster asks, somewhat miserably. He tries to make it not sound like whining.

Prowl turns that unimpressed look on him. His optics aren’t nearly as cold as they had seemed earlier, but Toaster feels as if he’s toeing the line.

“We do nothing,” Prowl informs. “The rumors will go away in time.”

“But what if they don’t?” Toaster asks. “I don’t want the whole of the Autobot army to think we’re _fragging.”_

Prowl makes a face at the word but shrugs, “There is nothing we can do about it. The rumors won’t be dissuaded any time soon.”

Toaster knows when he’s lost against Prowl. “You’re not wrong,” Toaster concedes. He himself had heard more than his fair share of both Decepticon _and_ Autobot gossip. Both sides could latch onto a rumor for longer than necessary but it would go away in time.

Prowl nods in satisfaction. Toaster relaxes. Then Prowl’s lips curl into a smile, tinged with amusement and mischief. It takes a moment for Toaster to realize that Prowl likely has an idea that will make Toaster regret their comradery.

Prowl politely holds out his arm toward Toaster but it is a clear invitation, “Now, I believe we were going to get our energon.”

It clicks then and Toaster _knows_ that he already regrets what he’s about to agree to. “You’re not going to discourage them, are you?”

Prowl ducks his helm and his smile quirks with further amusement. “No,” Prowl confirms, “I am not. In fact, you could even say that I’m fueling the flames.”

Toaster stares at his arm for another moment before giving in. “Can I report you to Prime for this?”

Prowl has the audacity to laugh at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl and Toaster, in the rec room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's me, pretending i know stuff about chess

When Toaster and Prowl step into the rec room, it goes quiet. Every optic in the room darts to them. Toaster can see the way they scan and analyze, trying to figure out whether or not the rumors going around can be believed. Based on most of the ‘Bots’ expressions, they can be.

It’s hard to argue with their perception, though. Toaster’s arm is still wrapped around Prowl’s and Prowl has placed his free servo on Toaster’s forearm. Thankfully, Prowl’s doorwings are still in a platonic position, not that many mechs know how to read doorwings. Toaster barely knows how and he’s been around Prowl for centuries.

Despite all of that, no one dares to ask what Toaster knows they want to, even as Prowl drags Toaster to a free table. The Autobots at least respect Prowl that much.

“I’ll get your cube,” Prowl says as Toaster sits down. His voice is carefully affectionate, just the right side of warm and pleasant and enough to fuel the rumor mill.

Toaster almost shakes his helm, but then he catches Prowl’s optics. He sees the way Prowl’s mouth curves into a smirk and, really, Toaster’s been in Spec Ops long enough that he could call the gossip fun. Toaster’s own lips twitch into a light smile. Prowl’s doorwings raise approvingly.

“Make sure you get the sweet stuff this time,” Toaster heckles gently. It’s a reminder of what had happened the last time Prowl had gotten their fuel. It had been too bitter for Toaster and he’d simply let Prowl have both cubes.

“I’m sure I’ll find something that fits your tastes,” Prowl assures. His smirk drops into a real smile for a second before it slides back into places. Prowl then leans down until their faces are centimeters apart. “And if not, then you can _thoroughly_ reprimand me later.”

Prowl pulls away before Toaster can act on the embarrassment-fueled urge to smack him. The urge is quickly lost to the bubble of laughter that escapes him, though. Prowl’s doorwings flick upward with subtle humor even if he doesn’t laugh.

The chatter starts again as Prowl turns away and heads toward the energon dispensers.

“So’s it true?” a voice asks from beside Toaster.

Toaster almost jumps, rocking his seat just enough that he lightly hits the side of the much. “Woah, hey,” the mech placates. Toaster places the voice as Blaster’s and he looks up to see his brother’s face filled with good-natured curiosity. “Didn’t mean to scare you, bro.”

“You didn’t scare me,” Toaster denies. Even though the rec room is loud, he still lowers his voice before continuing, “But, uh, no. It’s not true. Prowl’s just having fun with the rumor mill. Far be it from me to stop it. It’s not hurting anyone.”

Blaster hums his agreement, moving to take the seat across from Toaster. “I wonder how long they’ll buy it then.”

“Who knows,” Toaster says with a shrug. “Sometimes rumors are so amusing they float around for a few decades.”

“Think you can pull it off for a few decades?” Blaster teases. “’Cause at that rate, you might as well seal the deal.”

Toaster laughs and his voice softens, “C’mon, Blast, you know me.”

The implication is left unsaid, because Blaster does know. He knows a lot of things that Toaster wishes he didn’t, but his crush on Jazz is the one beast that Blaster can’t seem to tackle. Blaster has never been great with the romance thing and neither has Toaster.

“I do,” Blaster agrees. “But now your new beau is coming back and I’ve got a shift. I’ll see you later.”

Blaster stands just as Prowl sets down his and Toaster’s fuel. “I take it your conversation was enlightening?” Prowl asks.

Blaster nods. Quietly, he says, “Don’t let this get out of servo.”

“It’s nothing harmful,” Prowl assures. “Besides, he’s one of my mechs. I know his limits.”

Blaster raises an optical ridge but doesn’t challenge that fact. Toaster clears his throat to catch Blaster’s attention, “Don’t worry.”

“I always worry. I’m your big brother,” Blaster says. As if to make a point, he pats the top of Toaster’s helm in affection. “But I really do have to go. Have fun harassing the gossipers. Be safe. Make good decisions.”

Toaster snorts and shoos him off with the wave of his servo, “Go. You have a shift.”

Prowl takes the empty seat across from him, pulling out the holographic board from his subspace and setting it on the table.

“Chess, right?” Toaster asks.

Prowl nods, “Yes. Do you have any grasp of the rules?” Toaster can only shake his helm. Prowl presses a button on the board. “Then I will show you where all the pieces go and how they move.”

“Do all the pieces go in the same place every time?”

“Yes. Here.” Prowl leans forward and carefully presses a space on the board. A little piece that looks a bit like a castle pops up. “This is called a rook. There are two of them and they both go in the corners, here and here. They can only move straight forward, back, or to either side. Do you understand?”

When Toaster nods, Prowl smiles. He takes Toaster through each piece in the same way, teaching him where they went and how they moved. Prowl looks delighted to talk about the game. His doorwings flutter with the excitement of teaching someone new.

“Have you gotten all of that?” Prowl asks when the board is set up. “I understand that remembering the rules might be difficult.”

“I think I’ve got it. You’re a great teacher,” Toaster reassures. “Now, let’s see how quickly you can beat me.”

Prowl’s smile widens into something slightly more tangible. “I’m sure you’ll be a formidable opponent in your own way,” Prowl says.

Despite saying so, the game is quick and Prowl utterly decimates him. Prowl is eager to set up another round, assuring Toaster that he’ll improve in time. He does and by the end of their mid-shift break Toaster almost thinks he could make a round last for more than five minutes.


End file.
